The Road Home

by Patrick E. Craig

  “Why, Mama! You’re blushing,” Jenny laughed. “I can understand why you lost your heart to Papa. He’s a handsome man.”

  “Did I hear someone talking about me?” Reuben Springer came into the room. His face was stern, but there was a smile behind his eyes.

  “Papa!” Jenny broke free from her mother and ran to her daed.

  Reuben took the girl into his arms. “This is always the best part of my day, when I come home to my girls,” he said as he kissed his daughter on the forehead. “I used to have to bend down so far to reach you. Now you’re all grown up.”

  Jerusha smiled at him, a tinge of pink in her cheeks.

  “I can still make you blush, eh, Mrs. Springer?” he asked.

  Jerusha turned away with a reluctant smile.

  A frown passed over Jenny’s face like a small dark cloud, and her father noticed it.

  “What is it, dochter?”

  “Jenny was asking me about her birth parents,” Jerusha said. “Not knowing about her past troubles her.”

  “Jenny, you mustn’t concern yourself with things that can’t be known,” Reuben said. “When your mother found you, there was no identification or any means to discover who you were. The police found a man’s body in Jepson’s pond the next spring, but he had been in the water far too long to make a clear identification. The car was stolen in New York, so there was no way to trace the man. You must be content with the wisdom of God. He sent you to us because He knew you needed us and we needed you. That’s all we need to know.”

  “But, Papa, sometimes I feel like a stranger, as if I don’t really belong here.” Jenny saw the pain in her father’s eyes and stopped. “I’m sorry, Papa. I didn’t mean it exactly that way. I don’t know why it’s so important to me to find out these things, but it is. Sometimes I think I’ll never be who I’m supposed to be until I find out who I really am. It doesn’t help that I’m so stubborn.”

  “Your Mama was just as stubborn when I first met her,” Reuben said. “Even twenty-four years later, I feel the sting on my face where she slapped me the first time I kissed her.”

  “Husband!” Jerusha exclaimed as her cheeks once again turned rosy pink.

  Reuben smiled at his wife and then looked at Jenny. His voice took a sterner tone. “Your mama has changed over the years, and you will change too. For the good of our family, you must put these things out of your mind.”

  Jenny felt a small flash of anger at her father’s words. She wanted to speak but wisely stayed silent. Then she decided to take a different approach.

  “Papa, maybe if I did know, I could be more peaceful inside and not be so much trouble for you and Mama. Maybe if you helped me to find my birth parents I could be a better dochter to you and—”

  Jenny’s papa stiffened at her words. “Jenny, I love you very much, but I am still the head of our home, and until you’re married and under the care of your husband, I will decide what’s best for you. There’s much in the world that you’re too young to understand. God has entrusted me with your care and safety for a good reason. The man you were with may have been your father, or he may not, but judging by what the police found in the car, he was not a good man. There were drugs and alcohol—”

  “But what if he wasn’t my father and he just kidnapped me or—”

  “Dochter! That’s enough! I know what’s best for you. Asking questions that can’t be answered will only cause you heartache and sorrow. I want you to put these wild ideas behind you. We will not discuss this further!”

  Jenny stared at her father, and he stared back at her. She started to speak, but her mother placed her hand on Jenny’s arm and squeezed a warning. “Your father is right, Jenny. You must listen to him and obey. Now, is anyone hungry, or should we go on working on this quilt?”

  Jenny took a deep breath, looked at her masterpiece, and smiled ruefully. The star design she had labored over for so many hours was crooked and wrinkled, and the colors she had chosen clashed.

  “I think we’d better have dinner, Mama. I don’t think there’s anything I can do to fix this mess.”

  “Well, let’s go then,” Reuben said. “I need kindling for the stove, and Jenny can go out and close in the chickens.”

  “All right, Papa,” Jenny said, still stinging from Reuben’s rebuke. “Do I need to bring in any milch, Mama?”

  “Yes, dear,” Jerusha said, “there’s some fresh in the cooling house.”

  When Jenny had banged out the back door, Jerusha turned to Reuben. “She’s so impetuous. I worry there’ll come a time when she crashes into a predicament we can’t get her out of. But you must not be so hard on her. She’s still young.”

  “I know. But young or not, her curiosity worries me,” Reuben said. “She’s headed for disappointment if she keeps searching for answers that don’t exist. I want to keep her from that as long as I can.”

  Jerusha nodded. “I want her to be happy, but in my heart I’m afraid that if she does somehow find her birth parents, she’ll want to be with them more than with us. And their way would be so different from ours. The world out there is filled with danger, and I don’t know if she would be able to understand it. I’m afraid for her, Reuben.”

  “I’m afraid for her too, Jerusha,” he said quietly, taking his wife in his arms. “And that’s why I want her to forget about her past. I’m trying hard not to crush her spirit, but the girl doesn’t think things through. She thinks she’s all grown up, but she still has many kindisch ways about her. There may soon come a day when she goes her own way, and the thought of what she might choose…”

  Jerusha felt a momentary chill grip her heart, and she pulled herself deeper into the circle of Reuben’s arms.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Memories

  JENNY HEARD THE SCREEN DOOR SLAM behind her as she bolted out of the house. The noise brought her up short, and she deliberately slowed her pace and took a deep breath. She had read about rockets, and she thought they described her perfectly. She was always going full blast and leaving a trail of fire behind her. Her mama said that young ladies should be dignified and demure in their behavior, quiet and plain in all their ways, but somehow that was not for her. She tried her hardest, but she just seemed to go at life like an angry goat, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Jenny looked up at the sky as the red, purple, and pink of an Apple Creek sunset spread in glorious abandon across the deepening blue. As the sun dropped into the west, small clouds caught its last rays and reflected them downward to wash the trees with hints of golden glory. The sight made Jenny catch her breath. Across the sky to the east, the stars began to appear one by one, and as they did, they twinkled and sparkled in the indigo velvet like diamonds on display. A shooting star trailed low on the horizon and disappeared behind the trees.

  Jenny felt the familiar tightness in her chest growing. She had felt it often in recent days, and sometimes it was so strong that she could hardly breathe. She forced herself to inhale slowly and deeply. She thought about her papa’s words and wondered if she should just forget about all the nonsense whirling around in her head. On the other hand, she didn’t like being treated like a child. She was old enough to make her own decisions.

  Why does he treat me that way? I’m just like that star shooting across the sky. I love Apple Creek and my home, but sometimes I feel like I’m standing back and watching everything from the outside. If I hadn’t gotten lost, if Mama hadn’t found me…if things had been different, what would my life have been?

  Jenny walked slowly down the path to the cooling shed to fetch the milk. The Springer farm stretched out before her. She could smell the hay that Papa had just put up in the barn, and with the smell came a rush of memories—being carried up to the hayloft in her papa’s strong arms, sliding down the big pile of hay and collapsing in a heap at the bottom, lying in the hay and watching the pigeons scrabbling along the highest beams. She sighed.

  The cows mooed mournfully and the sheep bleated at her as she
went by. The big Rhode Island rooster glared at her from his perch on the woodpile as his hens scratched for bugs in the dirt of the pathway. She grabbed up a stick lying by the path and began to herd the chickens back into their pen. The rooster jumped down and angrily defended his flock but eventually surrendered and meekly led the hens inside.

  Summer in Apple Creek had come to an end, and the nip of fall was in the air. It was harvest time, and the men were working from dawn to dusk in the fields, bringing in the crops and putting them up for the winter. Soon Jenny would be spending her days with her mother and grandmother, canning the fruit and vegetables, cooking and salting the meat, and getting ready for the long, cold days ahead.

  Once more the unwanted thoughts began to crowd into her head, and she felt a sudden chill pass over her. What would her life be like if she weren’t an Amish girl? Maybe she would be an Englisch girl getting ready for college or living in a big city. Since the car she was found in came from New York, maybe her birth mother still lived there. Maybe she was from a rich family, and they had been looking for her all these years and…She stopped short in the path and stilled her thoughts, wondering why she couldn’t be content with the life she had right in front of her.

  Life for the Amish was an endless cycle that was intimately connected to the land and the seasons. Planting in the spring, tending the fields through the long summer, harvesting when the air grew crisp, and then waiting out the days when the snow blanketed the ground—quilting, sewing, reading the Bible, or just sitting before a roaring fire. And of course there were the winter feasts and family get-togethers. These things had been the routine of Jenny’s life, and in her younger days it had been enough.

  She loved her home and especially her parents. They were so good to her, and she knew they loved her deeply. Her mama was a wonderful quilter, and her quilts were known throughout the Amish community and even out among the Englisch in the village and throughout Ohio. Once, when she was younger, she had asked her mama why she didn’t sell her quilts in some of the big Englisch stores or offer them in catalogs.

  “There was a time I thought I wanted to do that,” Jerusha answered. “I was angry at God because I blamed Him for taking Jenna away. I was going to use my quilts to get out of Apple Creek and leave God and this Amish life behind. I was running away, but He put me right in the middle of a terrible storm. Then He showed me how wrong I was, how prideful and arrogant and faithless. And when I surrendered to Him, He led me to you to show me how much He really did love me.”

  “But, Mama, your quilts are so beautiful. You could be famous, and we would make lots of money.”

  “Yes, but when I was in that cabin, struggling to keep both of us alive, I remembered what my grandmother taught me when I was first learning to quilt. She had told me, ‘You’re too proud, Jerusha. This gift is not for you, but for those you can bless with your quilts. It is God working through you to touch others, and not to be held for yourself. You can’t take this gift and use it to bring attention or recognition to yourself.’

  “I realized that God has given me this gift to bless others and not myself. Now I make the quilts for people in our village who really need them. It’s my way to thank du lieber Gott. So, Jenny, we won’t worry about your mama being rich and famous. What need do we have for money? We have each other and your daed and the land and the Lord. That is enough.”

  Jenny remembered the question she had asked her mother. “Has God given me a gift that I can use to bless people, Mama?”

  Jerusha took the girl in her arms and held her close. “Your very life is a gift and a blessing to your papa and me and to many others. God has given you a quick mind and courage and determination. Soon He will begin to open doors for you to walk through. When He does, you mustn’t hesitate, but you must do exactly as He says. Then you will discover who you are to be and what your place is in this world.”

  Jenny realized she was standing in the middle of the path, lost in her thoughts. She wondered what someone who might come down the path would think about finding her standing stock-still and silent in the dark. She walked to the cooling shed and went inside. The ice blocks, cut from last winter’s frozen pond and packed in sawdust, had kept the insulated building cool all summer, and Jenny often slipped in there on hot days to refresh herself. She usually loved this place, but tonight it seemed cold and dark. She looked around at all the produce and goods her family had set aside, some of it especially for the holidays that would soon mark the end of the harvest season. She found the milk in the metal can, poured some out into the pitcher she had grabbed on her way out of the kitchen, and went back outside.

  Jenny looked up at the night sky again, and suddenly her heart was filled with love for this place, for her parents, and for the ways of her people. In that quiet moment she decided she needed to put all the wondering behind her. She needed to get on with her life. The mystery of where she came from would just have to remain an enigma forever. She was Jenny Springer, and she was thankful for such a wonderful home. This is where her life was, and nothing could take her away.

  Jenny turned and went back to the house. There! That was settled forever…no more thinking or dreaming—and then a thought popped unbidden into her mind. What if I’m the daughter of a rich family and stand to inherit millions? Or what if my real father is a famous musician or—

  “Jenny, stop it!” she cried out loud.

  From inside the house her mother’s voice called out to her. “Are you all right, Jenny?”

  Jenny felt her face burning. Wonderful! Now I’m talking to myself. The people in the village all know I’m pushy. Shall I now add verrückt to their opinion?

  “I’m fine, Mama. I’ll be right in.” I must get hold of myself! This is the reality of my life. I will never find out where I came from or who my birth parents are, so I should just make up my mind to give up this hopeless dream!

  When Jenny crawled into bed that night she couldn’t rest. She drifted in and out of sleep, tossing and turning. She tried praying, but that didn’t help. Finally around midnight she slipped into a troubled sleep. Her dreams were filled with strange places and people. She felt as if she were flying, and then a scene took shape in her mind. She was in the backseat of a car, and she was very cold and hungry. The man driving the car was drinking out of a bottle as the car sped down the highway. He was yelling and singing and weeping, and the car was swerving and jerking.

  “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the waaayyyy.”

  Terrified, Jenny clung to the door handle with all her might. Suddenly the car swerved off the road. It started to run up on a bank, but the man twisted the wheel and the car shot back onto the highway.

  “Mama, Mama!” Jenny screamed.

  The man reached back and tried to grab her. Jenny held on to the door handle and screamed again. She felt the man’s hand gripping her shoulder and pulling her toward him. She looked into his eyes. The pupils were like little pinpoints, and they terrified her. An evil grin spread across his face as he clutched at her.

  “You want your Mama?” he asked. “I’ll send you to her right now.”

  The man was turned toward her, not watching the road. The car shot off the road and over a bank. Everything seemed to go into slow motion. She felt the car lift off the ground and begin to roll over in midair. There was a sickening crash, and then they were sliding down a steep bank. Everything moved so slowly, and the man’s screams were low-pitched, as if someone were playing a recording too slowly. The car hit a tree and some rocks, but because everything was moving so slowly, it was all like a strange dance. Finally the car came to rest on its side at the edge of what looked like a snow-covered meadow.

  Jenny had been thrown down between the front and back seats and then onto the side door, and she lay there, unable to scream or cry, frozen in terror. The man struggled around in the front seat, and his movements made the car roll over on its top. He fell heavily onto the roof and cried out. She was buried underneath the seat cushions and some c
lothing. The front seat had broken loose, and when the car rolled over, it fell down on the passenger side, blocking access to the back of the car. She saw his legs thrashing around and heard him groaning. Then she saw his hand try to reach around the broken seat, but he couldn’t get to her, so he started kicking at the front passenger door until it finally opened. A blast of bitter wind came in and chilled her to the bone. The man crawled out onto the snow, and as he did, the wind blew the door shut.

  Jenny groaned and tried to make herself wake up, but she couldn’t move or make a sound. She slipped back into her whirling dream. The car was upside down, and she was lying on the roof. She could see the man’s legs outside the window. He had gotten up and staggered to the back door. Now his feet were next to the window. She heard him pulling on the handle and swearing. She lay terrified as he began to kick at the window. She could just barely hear him mumbling incoherently. The window didn’t break, and then she could see him step back.

  She saw him walk away from the car, and then she saw a piece of metal lying a few feet away. She watched him as he bent over to pick it up. Suddenly a hole opened up under his feet, and he fell into it. There was a big splash, and then he was up to his neck in water. He tried to pull himself up, but the edge of the hole kept breaking off. His face was only a few feet away from hers, and as she looked out the window of the car, she saw him sink beneath the surface.

  He came back up, and with one arm he grabbed the edge of the hole. He looked right into her eyes, and then she saw his face turn into a skull, and his bony skeletal fingers reached for her. Just as they touched the car door, the edge of the hole broke, and the man disappeared under the water once more. There was a thrashing underneath the surface, and more water splashed out. Then, finally, everything was quiet, and the surface of the water became smooth and still.